Wednesday, September 04, 2013

Anyone Who Can Neatly Fold a Fitted Sheet Has Obviously MADE A DEAL WITH SATAN.

I think I'm missing a certain gene that other women have. I can't fold fitted sheets. Or round tablecloths. Why is this? I can fold shirts, pants, socks, towels, washcloths, I AM EVEN A LITTLE HANDY AT ORIGAMI. Yet stick a round tablecloth or fitted sheet in front of me, and I must walk away. I. Can't. Do. It. I know women who can. I consider them Freaks Of Nature.

Yeah, feeling a little inadequate today.

And while I'm at it--I seem to have missed out on some other genes that females have. Like, the "cute bubble handwriting" gene. My handwriting could be called spidery at best. And I'm also missing the "I can style girl hair" gene. Because even though sometimes there's a whole lot of Try there, it just doesn't happen. You should see my hair sometimes. You should've seen my poor daughter's hair growing up. It was either A) in a ponytail or B) in TWO ponytails. I can't French braid. I can barely braid. I'm sure my daughter resents me for her lack of cute hairstyles growing up.

And yes, today is Laundry Day. That would be the reason for my little rant. And since Brevity is the soul of Wit, I'm done for now.